Locations in West Orlando

How many guys does it take to flip the perfect burger? The answer's five, in case you haven't already guessed, and Orlando-area beefeaters are just beginning to learn what their D.C.-area counterparts have known for a long time: Five Guys makes the best burgers around, greasy hands down. And the profusion of accolades and superlatives ensconced on the walls underscore the sentiment ' 'Willy Wonkas of burgercraft!â?� raves the Washington Post; 'Five Guys is in a class by itself!â?� shrieks the Old Town Crier.

Sure, the sterile interior of red-and-white-checkered tile may fall about 10 urinals short of the men's room at Union Station, but if you can manage to get your peanut shell'wedged flip-flops past the 50-pound bags of potatoes and to the counter, you'll find a quintet of red-capped burger-flipping artistes grilling patties to perfection. (Be sure to grab a Styrofoam cup and dig into the giant sack of salted peanuts before picking up your grease-speckled paper bag of food.)

'Five Guys� is a reference to founder Jerry Murrell's five sons, all of whom play a part in the family business, and what a simple business it is: burgers. The never-frozen, 100-percent-fresh, lean ground-beef patties come in four burger varieties ' regular, cheese, bacon and bacon-cheese ' and come standard with two juicy, well-done patties, though you can downsize to the 'little� version with just one which, frankly, is filling enough. Best of all, you can crown those beef-filled, sesame-seed buns with 15 available toppings, such as fried onions, sautéed mushrooms and A-1 sauce, at no extra charge. But if you tend to get topping-happy, you'll have a goopy mess on your hands after your burger disintegrates.

I ordered my 'littleâ?� cheeseburger ($3.29) with fried onions, lettuce, tomatoes, jalapenos and hot sauce, and it held its form nicely. A look under the bun revealed that they forgot the hot sauce, but the miscue failed to spoil my utter enjoyment of this near-perfect, three-quarter-pound burger. It's the kind of sandwich that gets you salivating at the very thought of it. In fact, a couple of nights later, as I sat to write the very words you're reading, a craving for a Five Guys burger overcame me and I just had to have it. You WILL crave a Five Guys burger days, weeks or even months later, and when that hunger hits, you'll drive like a maniac to get to one of their locations (besides the Dr. Phillips store, there's one in Altamonte Springs and another on the corner of Sand Lake Road and John Young Parkway) before the posted closing time of 10 p.m.

The skin-on hand-cut fries ($1.99 regular; $3.79 large), soaked in cold water, blanched in cholesterol-free peanut oil, then crisped when ordered, cry for a splash of vinegar, though you can also get 'em Cajun-style. Word of advice: Unless you're a family of four, the regular order of fries is plenty. A whiteboard advertises the origin of 'Today's Potatoes,â?� and the half-dozen or so times I've eaten there, it's always read 'Rigby, Idaho.â?� Fries are cut French-style, and a pinchful with every burger bite is the best way to enjoy your meal.

Damn, I think I'm getting another craving.

Tucked in a corner of the Dr. Phillips Marketplace, this humble eatery may not have the cachet of its neighbor Anatolia, but as a kebaberia, it more than holds it down. The exclellent rice complements flavorful kafta kebab, shish tawook and rack of lmb. Traditional starters are all worthy, but consider crunchy fattoush sala and pizza-like safiha for a change. Baklava is served cold, but Turkish coffee is properly steaming,.

Teaser: Tucked in a corner of the Dr. Phillips Marketplace, this humble eatery may not have the cachet of its neighbor Anatolia, but as a kebaberia, it more than holds its own. The excellent rice complements flavorful kafta kebab, shish tawook and rack of lamb. Traditional starters are all worthy, but consider crunchy fattoush salad and pizza-like safiha for a change. Baklava is served cold, but Turkish coffee is properly steaming.

The thought of ordering seafood in a restaurant completely devoid of diners can be a tad unnerving. Visions, however unwarranted, of gastrointestinal anguish can easily contaminate the mind in eateries lacking any bustling human stimulus. Such was the scene as we sat down to peruse Fresco's lengthy bill of fare. Scores of dishes required studied concentration on the menu, a feat seemingly commensurate with taking in the size of the restaurant itself. It's cavernous ' there's a deli, a market, an espresso bar and a conventional bar ' but the place is tastefully appointed, pun intended. As much as we expected a substandard dining experience, the result was, in fact, quite the opposite.

The dollops of lemon-caper mayo weren't necessary with the carpaccio di bresaola ($9) ' the thin slices of salted aged filet were flavorful enough and, thankfully, not saturated in olive oil. 'Some of the best carpaccio I've had in Orlando,â?� my dining partner remarked, and I'm inclined to agree. Roughage in the form of Parmesan-dusted arugula, along with cherry tomato halves, accompanied the starter. The round of goat cheese ($9) could've been more substantial; its panko-coated shell a little less so. The crust was too overdone, the crisp texture impinging on the cheese's soft consistency. The polpette ($5) may not be your grandma's meatballs, but the spheres of finely minced beef and pork will certainly gratify that orb-o'- chuck craving.

From the list of pasta plates, gnocchi caprese ($14), potato parcels served in a stainless steel skillet, dazzled in a thick pomodoro sauce ' at least the ones on the outer rim did. The ones toward the center were a speck overcooked. Yes, they could've eased back on the garlic, but the dish satisfied despite its flaws. Poultry and veal dominate the secondi, with traditional chicken piccata ($15) carrying a primo tangy note. Even better was the side of flawless fried zucchini ' it really should be a permanent antipasti item.

An ample wine list will win over even the most cultured oenophile, but offering none by the glass shows a lack of good restaurant sense. Not everyone is going to want to foot the bill for a bottle, even if they're offered at a wholesale price. That said, the owner did promise more wines by the glass in the coming weeks. You won't have to wait that long for a slab of house-made tiramisu ($5) with a nice balance of sponge to cream, nor the exemplary puffs of profiteroles ($5). Flown in fresh from Italy, the airy pastries come enveloped in moussey chocolate frosting with a not-too-sweet cream filling. It's as standout a finale as you'll ever enjoy.

Service is cordial, but failing to tender a wine list and ignorance of the desserts in the display case are traits of inexperience. No matter ' Fresco's menu cleaves to the familiar, but its execution is worthy of praise. By meal's end, any notions of paralytic shellfish poisoning had dissipated, which ultimately had us lamenting our lack of seafood-ordering abandon.